


Creative Spirit

by LdyBastet



Category: Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyBastet/pseuds/LdyBastet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uruha tries to create his magic. (Uruha, a drink, and his guitar: a prompt by Zabimitsuki.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creative Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am not in any way affiliated with the GazettE, sadly. I have no idea what _really_ goes on in Uruha's head. This is just fiction.
> 
> Beta by one_short_fuse.

Uruha's fingers moved nimbly over the neck of the guitar as he played around with the tune he had in his head. The first part came out just like he wanted it to, but after that the notes sounded... He paused and stared into the air, trying to catch the feeling. The notes weren't bad. And they fitted with the music he was trying to make. It was just that they weren't quite what he wanted.

He reached for his glass, taking a sip. The alcohol stung pleasantly, and he let the liquid roll over his tongue before swallowing. He took another mouthful before leaning over his guitar again.

Sorrowful.

That was what he was trying to catch and hadn't succeeded with, he realised. It wasn't that he wanted to make a sad song. That was Ruki's department – and knowing Ruki, no matter how Uruha described the song, he would probably write sad lyrics to it anyway. But he wanted the feeling of the song to reach out to the listener, wanted it to grab their heart... Melancholy?

Uruha played it from the beginning again, trying to bring the feeling in his heart out through the instrument. He let the notes drift, hang in the air, take a walk on the beach... in the moonlight...

The last note ended, and Uruha smiled to himself. That was what he'd wanted this part to be. The song was slowly coming together, and Uruha felt fortunate that he was able to do something like this. He was enjoying himself, and he was making a living from it. Sometimes he wondered if the songs would one day stop coming to him and how that would feel. It was an uncomfortable thought, because without the music and his guitar, who was he? Who would he be then? But then he woke up the next morning and found himself humming something new, and he just had to grab the guitar and try to play it. Music wasn't going to leave him, was it? It lived inside him, in the blood in his veins, in the air he breathed... Uruha looked at the bottle on the table. It was in everything, right? Everything had a soul, a spirit... maybe. And couldn't it be brought out in music?

Uruha laughed. Maybe he'd just had too much to drink after all.


End file.
